Revenge is sweet
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Highwaymen Ch. 13 free porn video
It was well past sunrise when Terence awoke. He lay with his eyes still closed. Already he could feel the warmth of the sun as it filtered between the leaves and branches overhead, and against his side the warmth of the young woman, his companion. He mused how good it was to wake with her at his side. In such a very few nights it had become a habit he would not willingly forgo. He opened his eyes and turned towards her, and almost jumped when he was met by her wide open, clear blue eyes staring at him. She smiled, and his heart leapt painfully in his breast.
‘Did you sleep well old man?’ Her voice was deep and vibrant, almost husky. She had lain watching him for perhaps half an hour, learning the lines of his face, the fall of his long hair, the pattern of his breathing. She felt profoundly happy.
‘I did indeed, young girl.’ He replied as lightly as he could manage, though he was moved by the intensity of regard he had seen in those pretty eyes. What a lovely thing she was, a wild animal and yet an incarnation of womanhood. He had read of wood-nymphs, and here in this wood he imagined she might be such: a Dryad. His cock hardened and struggled to rise within his breeches.
He reached carefully around her shoulder with his injured arm and pulled her closer. She snuggled down against his breast, wrinkling her nose as his whiskers tickled, but happy to inhale the strong scent of him. Her own arm sneaked around his back and squeezed them closer yet. She pushed her hip against his groin, and squealed delight when she felt the hard bone of his arousal. She wriggled and pushed inwards at it.
Suddenly Terence growled in need and rolled her roughly onto her back. He knelt astride her legs, gasping. ‘I must have you now Joanna!’ He was pulling at his belt, and then his breeches, while she in turn wrestled hers. Then, his breeches dropped around his knees, he was dragging hers down and off. As she parted her legs in invitation he knelt between them and thrust his already-dripping sex at her cleft. He found it warm and ready, and slid straight into the wet embrace without pause or consideration. The girl cried out, but she rode back against him too.
He tore at her shirt, finding his way to the tight-laced flesh beneath as he pumped her hard. She deftly undid the bow and started to loosen the corset, but he grabbed the two sides and pulled them forcefully apart, her breasts spilling out. He grasped the nipples and squeezed hard, so that she shrieked in surprise and pain. That spurred him further, and he twisted and pulled whilst he still held the squeeze. The squeaks and gasps of his companion were music to his ears. She started to rake his back painfully with her nails and he released her breasts and slapped the left hard. ‘Stop that whore!’
But she would not stop. She raked him again, and he slapped her harder. Now she dug her nails into his shoulders so hard she drew blood. He gasped, and slapped her cheeks with force, forehand and then backhanded. The girl was bucking like a wild horse beneath him, and his excitement was reaching its crescendo. Never had he felt so roused to hurt and derive pleasure from the action, as he felt his partner’s excitement at the treatment. ‘Slut!’ he gasped. ‘Whore!’ And then he was coming within her, and as he fell still except for his cock pumping its milky load into her, she was thrashing and moaning, her eyes turning upwards in their sockets, her limbs flailing in her own abandoned climax.
Some time afterwards, when she had recovered from her orgasm, the two lay entwined a long time, nipping at each other half-playfully, but still applying little hurts to each other, a pinch here, a bite there.
Eventually they arose, and made a breakfast of bread and dried meat and water, finishing with an apple apiece. They discussed where they would head, and Joanna finally allowed Terence to persuade her, against her better judgement, that a trip to Norwich might offer advantage. ‘After all,’ he had said, ‘we will be less remarked amongst the crowds of the city on market day than as two travellers on the open road.’ Joanna dressed in womanly apparel, a dark grey skirt added to the black blouse which she habitually wore. She stood boldly before Terence as she donned it, and he felt himself stirred once more by the attractions of her flesh. She knew it well, but made it clear when he would have dallied yet again that she would not brook more delay.
So they rode for Norwich, arriving there at noon, and threading through the narrow streets to the marketplace where they tethered their mounts and gave one of the lads a small coin to keep watch on them. Joanna placed her arm in Terence’s and they strolled around the stalls. Terence bought black and red ribbons, which he handed to his pretty companion with an exaggerated bow. ‘I will like to see your hair bound in these.’
Joanna’s response was quick. ‘What, will you bind only my hair Sir? I can think of rather better ways in which you might bind me!’ She smiled at him. Her remark had been made quite loudly, and Terence flushed at the thought others might hear such. Seeing his discomfiture she added, speaking louder yet, ‘And I would like ribbons to bind you my pretty, too!’ Her gaze rested boldly on his groin. She couldn’t help smiling hugely at his reddening face.
Joanna’s purchases were more utilitarian. She bought fruit and fresh bread, and a little spice. Terence bought a skin of wine. Suddenly, as they were leaving, a woman just one or two years older than Joanna, smartly dressed, called out, ‘Celeste!’ and hurried towards them. For the first time since he had made her acquaintance, Terence saw his companion truly flustered. She almost turned away, cursed under her breath, then schooled her face to a smile and turned back once more. ‘Emily!’ she returned. The women embraced warmly.
‘You are looking well Celeste. What have you been about these past few months? I have missed you, and it is strange that we meet now when we are far away from home.’ The woman was warm and friendly. Terence pondered her use of that name, the same which Rosie had used.
Joanna and Emily embarked on an animated conversation, listening to which Terence learned much about his lover’s former life. It seemed that Emily had known her from when they were both little. Joanna, he learned, had not lied to him about her family and past. But the name? That was beginning to irk him. He spoke. ‘Will you not introduce me to your friend, Joanna!’ He noted Emily’s surprise at the name. Joanna made the introductions. As he joined the conversation he made sure to use the name several times. And he saw Emily’s expression growing more confused as she heard it repeated. Eventually the women embraced and parted. Terence decided to leave the matter of Joanna’s name for now.
They ate in a tavern just off the market square, beneath the castle, and drank well too. Each of them was rather awkward in their conversation, both aware that there was a question hanging, but neither approaching it. When they left, and had collected their mounts, they rode to the edge of town. Terence suggested that they lodge in a small inn as they passed. ‘Just for this night, at my expense.’
Joanna, feeling awkward still, agreed to it readily despite her own predilection for the open. They stabled their horses and carried their bags in with them, Terence greeting the landlord and securing a room for the night. It was plain and simple. When they had put down their burdens Terence came to Joanna and embraced her. She was surprised at the vehemence of his grip on her arms. He spoke softly into her ear. ‘And now’. His voice was tight and gruff. ‘You will tell me why you have been having me call you ‘Joanna’ all this time.’
The girl tried to make light of it. ‘Why, I have used many names, and I like Joanna.’
‘Ouch!’ She felt his fingers bite deeper into her upper arms.
‘Tell me the truth girl. NOW.’
Suddenly he was menacing. She felt a thrill at tha
t. But she knew that there could be no more dissembling. ‘It’s true, Celeste is my name. I adopted the name Joanna when we met, and so I have continued it through our companionship.’
‘Dammit! You were so hard on me for not using my true name, and all this time you’ve made a fool of me!’ He was shaking a little with anger.
‘I’m sorry Terence.’ She cast down her head in contrition.
His voice was low and menacing, ‘You will be.’ And suddenly he was dragging her back out to the inn-yard. Only the stable lad was there. Terence called to him. ‘A rope boy! And be quick.’ She started to struggle in earnest, but he held her fast. The boy returned, fearful, and proffered the rope. Terence lashed Celeste to the fence, while she kicked and struggled and swore her best.
He bound her hands to the top bar, so she was leaning forward. Now he grasped her skirt and dragged it down to fall around her feet. That prevented her kicking for a little. He grasped her underskirt and pulled that down too, and now she was naked from the waist down.
Celeste/Joanna was outraged, enraged, but also excited beyond belief. Terence went into the stable and strode out carrying a short horsewhip.
Celeste’s eyes went wide. ‘Don’t you dare!’
But Terence had been intent on taking a stern revenge from the moment he learnt the truth. ‘I am going to beat you, you lying little cunt. And then you are going to apologise to me.’
‘Fuck you!’
‘Oh I may fuck you, but only after I’ve hurt you enough.’ He came to her and lifted the shirt above her breasts, so now all her charms were exposed to the world. The stable lad lurked in the corner watching in amazement.
Suddenly the short whip was cutting her back, then her buttock, then one thigh. ‘Gods!’ she hissed. It stung like nothing she had felt before. Yet she was already in a haze of pain, but behind it there was a warm pleasure beginning to build. She groaned. Terence attacked her, deliberately hurting her whole body from upper back to knee. She was dancing under the blows, trying to wriggle and squirm away. She hissed, and cried out, and squealed, and screamed. Then, when he cut twice at her cunt, she sobbed.
The highwayman was panting hard now from the exertion and, he now realised, from a painfully strong arousal too. He threw down the whip. ‘Apologise!’ His voice shook with emotion, part of it the little that remained of his fading anger, but much more his guilt at what he now realized he had done as he looked on her poor striped and marked flesh.
In a very small voice Celeste responded. ‘I am sorry Master.’ Then she bit her lip. Why? Why had she used that word? This was no game they had just played. ‘I am sorry Terence.’
He untied her, and as she straightened she saw the boy dart back into the stable. She flushed, then despite her pain managed an inward smile. He was perhaps thirteen or fourteen, old enough to be aroused by what he had just witnessed, certainly.
She thought back to her unbidden use of that word, ‘Master’. Yes, she had felt completely controlled, completely helpless, fearful to a degree she had never felt before. And it had thrilled her to the core, even in the midst of bitter pain. The thoughts completely erased her anger at him.
Terence helped her stand, but she fell suddenly to her knees before him. He bent to help her up but she shook her head. ‘No, I am not in difficulty. But … I need to kneel to you. You Mastered me. I have never before felt quite what I felt when you punished me then. Perhaps I never will again. But …’ she swallowed and looked up at him, her lashes damp. ‘… at least for now, I am your slave. Use me and abuse me as you will Terence. Be my Master. Please.’
She was so beautiful, kneeling there before him in submission! Now at last he began to understand. He was proud to be addressed as her Master. How could it feel good to call another his slave? Yet … he would do it. And he knew he would enjoy inflicting the pain/pleasure that she craved. His reward would lie in her response.
‘Come with me then, I need some service girl.’ He turned on his heel and headed back to their room, leaving her to gather up her skirts, gingerly pull down her shirt, and hasten painfully after him.
Trish
- 07.06.2020
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